A Game of Serpents: Book the First
by Septimus Malfoy
Summary: Ever since the Norman Conquest, the Houses of Malfoy and Potter have stood united against the forces of chaos. Now the First Serpent War is over and Lord James Potter is dead. His son, the boy-who-lived, has to carry on his legacy and prevent the return of Lord Voldemort the Usurper. Will his best friend Draco and he succeed where the last generation failed? Major AU! No slash.
1. Prologue: Glimpses of the Past

**A Game of Serpents**

**Book the First: Revenge and Rebirth**

* * *

**Foreword**

I am not fond of massive author notes in each chapter. That is why I will try to address most things here, before I begin.

Before you is what I hope will become the first in a series of Harry Potter fanfics, provided that idleness and procrastination do not keep me from it. I shall attempt updates as frequently as possible, especially throughout this summer, when I have a great deal of free time between graduating school and starting university.

I do not wish to divulge any of the content of the stories I have planned, if possible; yet I understand that there exist certain conventions of courtesy on this site and I shall abide by them. That said, this is **a major AU work**. I have an entirely different backstory planned, diverging from the original almost 1000 years before the events of the Harry Potter series. Any canonical purists have been warned. There shall also be **no slash** behavior, nor sexual debauchery or depravity of any kind. Pairings, if they occur (it is undecided as of this moment) shall be heterosexual in nature and not central to the plot.

I warmly welcome, nay, plead for a review from anyone willing to spare a minute. I feed upon your adulation and constructive criticism. That said, flamers, spammers, trolls, and other assorted imbeciles who would try to bring me down to their level and beat me with their experience shall be ignored.

With that out of the way, welcome! Ah, yes, one more thing…

**Legal Disclaimer:** Any character, location, name, word, or idea that appears originally in the _Harry Potter_ series of books is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. It has been borrowed here for non-commercial entertainment purposes.

* * *

**Prologue: Glimpses of the Past**

_London, Anno Domini 1068_

"Well, I should say the matter is settled," declared Armand de Malefoy with a tone of finality, putting the heavy parchment scroll down on the massive oak desk. The serene expression on his weathered face was one which had hardly been seen for the past two years. The calculating mask he usually wore was gone, yet all his features, from his cold grey-blue eyes and controlled semi-smile to his shoulder length dark blonde hair and short, pointed beard still exuded an unmistakably aristocratic air. He still very much looked a man in the prime of his life, save for the few yet unmistakable giveaways, such as the furrows on his forehead and the light shadows above his eyes that suggested his apogee was already past.

"I take it, then, that he has agreed?" inquired the younger man sitting across him. Unlike Armand, he was clearly yet to reach his apex. The determined look that was often found in his energetic hazel eyes suggested his time for greatness would be upon him soon, perhaps sooner than he imagined. His raven hair was shorter and in a near-permanent mess, given his affinity for heavy battle helms.

"Yes, the whole fiefdom," Malefoy remarked with satisfaction, as he put away the letters patent to Wiltshire into the inner pocket of his exquisite emerald green robes. "A toast, my dear Richard!" he said and picked up his glass of wine which had just filled itself through the surreptitious magic of one of the house elves. His guest returned the gesture.

"This is very good, but what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Ah, yes! I had almost forgotten," replied Armand. "Do you remember the battle on last midsummer's day?"

"How can anyone ever forget?" Richard's eyes drifted to images in his memory of that momentous occasion. The wizards and witches of Britain had put up a fight against the Norman forces which would no doubt place them firmly in the page of history. His mind rushed with the chaotic sensations of that day, curses and arrows flying everywhere, whole pillars of flame spouting from the earth, griffins, manticores, hydras and all manner of other creatures ripping men to shreds, the air itself crackling with raw magic…

"It seems our foes have finally seen reason. One of their finest has approached us at last. He says that he has seen this land's future lies with us and swears fealty."

"Who is this perceptive wizard?"

"The prince of serpents himself. Slytherin,"said Armand as his signature wry smile appeared on his face. Richard's eyes widened. The image of that man from the day of the battle was firmly lodged in his memory. He remembered seeing this enigmatic mage apparating all over the field, commanding a dozen vicious basilisks with nothing but the sound of his voice. The mighty serpents had surrounded an entire battalion; the men tried to escape their deadly gaze by using their shields as mirrors, only to become petrified in an instant. With one well aimed blasting curse, Slytherin had reduced the whole battalion to rubble. It took hours of grueling combat and hundreds of sacrifices before all but one of the serpents were slain. Richard himself had dispatched one and claimed a venomous fang as a trophy.

"And His Majesty has accepted his oath?"

"Yes, but there is more. Slytherin is an old man, and his only progeny is his daughter. A line such as his cannot be allowed to go extinct. Such rare and unique talent as theirs cannot be wasted. And that is where you come in," Armand remarked, giving his friend a genuine smile. "Your line is as pure and ancient as mine. Very few of us are this fortunate. Moreover, Slytherin himself had observed you during the battle. He has judged your spellwork as 'truly exceptional.'"

Richard sat back, contemplating what he had just heard. His gaze drifted into the distance for a moment while he processed the news, and then he returned Armand's smile. "I take it then that the marriage has been arranged?" Instead of answering, Armand took out another parchment from his robes and handed it to him. Richard examined the document. Sure enough, it was a detailed betrothal contract that listed all the extensive terms, as well as the significant dowry Slytherin would pay. At the bottom it bore two signatures and seals, one of a serpent onto green wax, and the other a crown in red wax, surrounded by the words "WILLELMVS D. G. REX ANGLORVM ET DVX NORMANNORVM." There was an empty space to the right, presumably for his own instruments of authentication. "Tell me Armand, do I have your political maneuvering to thank for this good fortune?" The signature half-smile was what he got as an answer.

"There is one more thing. We shall have to adapt ourselves to at least some of the customs of this land if we are to remain here for good. While de Poitiers is a fine name, His Majesty has suggested as slight variation."

Curious, Richard looked at the parchment to see the modification. '_Potter_.' he thought. '_This will do nicely_.'

* * *

_4891st Session of the Wizengamot, 17 May 1793_

"The house will come to order!" Chief Warlock Septimus Malfoy bellowed at the top of his voice and struck the stone dais below him thrice with his golden scepter. The heated deliberations had been continuing for days, and the atmosphere had reached a critically tense level. He knew that if things continued this way curses would soon start to be thrown about. "We shall adjourn for ten minutes in order to restore much needed serenity," he declared in a measured voice that nonetheless seethed of exasperation. The single ring of an unseen bell reverberated throughout the hall. The lords started to leave their seats and soon carried their lively conversations to the halls. Septimus leaned back in his large, throne-like chair and closed his eyes for an instant, trying to calm the turbulent thoughts racing through his mind. He may have managed to become the youngest Chief Warlock in three centuries, but it was only now that he was becoming aware of what exactly that position would entail of him. He opened his eyes and noticed that his good friend the Lord Potter was making his way up to him.

"Septimus, my friend, how are you keeping up?" he inquired, offering one of the two glasses of liquid he was carrying with him, "It's my new formula – basically an alertness potion with an improved duration and taste, and added effervescence." Malfoy accepted the drink and took a rather large gulp. He almost immediately felt his weariness disappearing; he did not doubt for a second that a creation of one of the most renowned potioneers of the age would be anything but perfect.

"Much obliged, Henry," he nodded to his friend.

"It is often the only way I can get through these intense sessions," said Potter and took a gulp from his own potion. His expression turned more serious and, after a quick sideways glance that confirmed most other lords had left the hall or were far enough from them, he took out his wand and cast a basic privacy ward. "We cannot allow our entire world to crumble around us while we waste precious time with pointless deliberations."

"I agree, the madness in France must be quelled," said Malfoy with renewed determination, "I thank you again for rescuing the Comté Delacour. I admit I feared the worst." He let out a sigh that was midway between relief and exasperation. Usually these uprisings would stay in the muggle world, but they were now spilling over into the magical realm, and the ancient order was being shaken to its very foundations. France was never going to be the same, and it would take something extraordinary to protect Britain from the tide of chaos. Oh how he envied his ancestors! Just a few goblin uprisings and a dragon pox epidemic had punctuated their relatively carefree existence. Malfoy realized his mind had taken off, so he steadied himself and turned back to his friend. "The lords are grateful to you for your work in France. I have heard talk of an Order of Merlin."

"That's all fine and well," said Henry, taking drink from his glass, "but I think we must act soon. Things are developing faster than expected. We must have a united front." He paused, thinking about how to move the subject where he desired. At last he remarked, "I trust my son has already come to you with his suit?"

"Yes, and you know I am agreeable, but Phyllis has yet to make her choice. I would not coerce my daughter in matters of the heart, Henry, but fortunately her affections and our designs coincide. Give her some time, my friend. She is not even seventeen yet."

"I appreciate your concern, but I do hope she sees how rapidly the situation is unfolding," said Lord Potter and finished the last of his drink. "An open union between our houses will send a very clear message." He paused again to pull out a piece of parchment from his robes. "In the meantime, shall I introduce the motion?"

"Anything to break this deadlock," Malfoy said with an approving nod, "I would invite you do dinner, Henry, but I fear we are in for a long evening."

"Some other time, then. I see the lords are returning." Sure enough, numerous figures were making their way back to their seats and the hall was once more filling up with intense chatter. Henry removed the ward with a flick of his wand and also made his way back to his own place. Septimus took a deep breath before picking up his scepter and striking the dais again.

"Order!" At that instant the murmurs ceased and the previous tense silence returned. "The session will now continue. We shall now discuss a new proposal, sponsored by Lord Potter and twenty-seven other members of the house. Lord Potter, the floor is yours?"

"Thank you, Lord Malfoy," Henry said and stood up. He could feel all eyes on him, some viewing this with suspicion and contempt, others with surprise or curiosity. "It is the belief of several of us, as well as mine, that desperate times such as these require more than speeches and halfhearted compromises. Our very way of life hangs in the balance. It is not by majority decisions, but only by the wand and by the sword, that we have any hope of surviving this threat." He spoke with a measured yet determined tone that imbued each word with unusual gravitas. The lords were listening intently, although many of them knew where he was going with this display. "Given these circumstances," he continued, "my colleagues and I consider it necessary to invest with emergency powers a capable and uncompromising leader who can see us through the storm and lead us in aiding our fellow wizards in France, as provided for by the Wilhelmine Edict of 1085, the Warwickshire Statute of 1396 and the Orleans Accord of 1453."

"This is madness!" a red haired lord from the other side of the hall shouted.

"Lord Weasley, you shall come to order or be evicted from the chamber," Septimus declared icily before turning back to the still standing Henry. "Do you have a particular nominee in mind, Lord Potter?" he asked, inwardly smiling at what he knew for weeks was going to be the answer.

"We nominate Lord Septimus Malfoy." The entire chamber burst into total uproar. Septimus groaned. This would take all night.

* * *

**The Diagon Alley Times**

15 April 1960 price: 2/6

**MASSACRE OF THE ROSIERS!**

MOST BRUTAL MURDER OF POST-GRINDELWALD ERA - 'LORD VOLDEMORT' NAMED PRIME SUSPECT - MINISTER TO ADDRESS NATION LATER TO-DAY!

Yesterday, the entire magical population of Britain was shocked by a horrible crime that awakened long forgotten memories of the last wizard war. The entire Rosier family – former ambassador to the French Ministry of Magic Georges Rosier, his wife and four children – were discovered brutally massacred in their home in Dorset. Aurors were alerted when local muggles noticed that the Rosier house was on fire.

"It was a horrid sight," commented Mr. Hugo Bones, the leader of the auror team that first reached the scene of the crime, "We found the house in ruins. The victims had suffered several burns, lacerations, blunt traumas and prolonged exposure to the cruciatus curse before being dispatched with a killing curse. Whoever did this wanted them to suffer." He added that all of the bodies have been recovered and identified, save for that of the Rosiers' one-month-old daughter, which is suspiciously missing. Rumors have immediately sprung up that she may have survived her family's horrible fate. They were dismissed by Mr. Bones, who said, "I was there. I saw the devastation. It would take more than a miracle for anyone, let alone a baby to get out alive."

When asked if there was a particular suspect, the Secretary for Magical Law Enforcement, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Sr., had this to say: "The DMLE has evidence pointing to a little known criminal who goes under the alias 'Lord Voldemort.' He has previously been suspected in several cases of theft of rare artifacts and kidnapping, but this is the first crime of such caliber that we believe he has been involved in." Mr. Crouch refused to divulge anything else about this suspect, but an anonymous source from the DMLE claims that he was once the leader of an organization called the 'Knights of Walpurgis.'

Albus Dumbledore, the vanquisher of Grindelwald, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and newly appointed Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, was also at the scene of the crime, arriving immediately after the first auror team. He declined to comment.

This evening at 8 p.m. the Minister for Magic, Mr. Norbert Leach, will address the nation over the Wizard Wireless Network regarding the murder. Inside sources tell us he has vowed to bring the perpetrators to justice.

* * *

**The Daily Prophet**

6 June 1976 price: 3/15

**DECLARATION OF WAR!**

HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED ASSASSINATES LORD POTTER - CLAIMS DESCENT FROM SLYTHERIN - DECLARES WAR ON MINISTRY

Tragedy has engulfed magical Britain after He-who-must-not-be-named's latest attack. His target was Lord Charlus Potter and his wife, Lady Dorea Potter nee Black, who were on their way to a charity function hosted at the Ministry in order to accumulate funds for St. Mungo's Hospital. Their carriage was ambushed around 9 p.m. in the middle of Diagon Alley. Aurors estimate that more than 20 Death Eaters, including the Dark Lord himself, participated in the attack. The Potters and their guards were taken by complete surprise, and were all killed in the short skirmish that followed. Before apparating away, witnesses claim that the Dark Lord left a chilling message at the site of the murder, written in the late Lord Potter's own blood. In it, he declares war on the Ministry of Magic, and proclaims himself rightful ruler of wizardkind and descendant of Salazar Slytherin. The latter claim in particular has been met with disbelief – it is well known that the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter are the only remaining descendants and also the only representatives of Slytherin's main line, ever since the last known side branch disappeared in the late 19th century (see p. 6)

The late Lord Potter's close friend Lord Abraxas Malfoy had this to say: "I am deeply disturbed by this tragedy. Lord Potter was like a brother to me. In his will, he has made me guardian of his only son, James. I will not rest until this barbaric murder is avenged!" He refused to comment on the state of his new ward and understandably declined requests to speak to him.

The Wizengamot will convene in an emergency session later today. It is expected that they will declare tomorrow a day of mourning, as well as implement extensive new security regulations. "It is simply unthinkable that an attack such as this could happen in Diagon Alley of all places," said Lord Justinian Nott, "The Auror Office has much to answer for." There has even been talk of instituting martial law, in light of He-who-must-not-be-named's declaration. While Lord Nott refused to comment on these rumors, he had this to say: "I want people to clearly understand the implications of this murder. V—t claims he is fighting for the pure-blood cause. How can anyone who says that assassinate the head of one of the most ancient lines in the magical world and the heir of Slytherin? Those who are considering joining his twisted crusade should ask themselves whom is this manipulative demagogue really fighting for."

Albus Dumbledore announced earlier today that despite the situation, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will remain open. "My staff and I will spare no effort in ensuring the safety of all of our students," he declared. He refused to comment on the murder of Lord Potter or on the state of James Potter, who currently remains at Hogwarts.

* * *

**The Daily Prophet**

8 June 1976 price: 3/15

**DUMBLEDORE ARRESTED, WIZENGAMOT IN CRISIS!**

LOST ROSIER DAUGHTER DISCOVERED! - DUMBLEDORE RESPONSIBLE FOR DISAPPEARANCE, ARRESTED BY MINISTRY - NATION IN POLITICAL CRISIS!

The nation rejoices today, after it was revealed that the long lost daughter of the Rosier family is alive and well. The entire family was massacred by He-who-must-not-be-named almost 16 years ago, but the body of the youngest child was never found. The jubilation quickly turned to righteous indignation, however, when her exact fate became known. It appears that none other than Albus Dumbledore had abducted the infant from the scene of the crime, modifying the memories of the aurors which accompanied him. He then gave the child over to a muggle (!) foster family, and she has been raised under a different name and until recently believed she was a muggleborn witch. This information was revealed to the Wizengamot in a maximum security, closed emergency session, and as such the source, theorized by some to be the Rosier heir herself, remains classified.

In consequence of these new revelations, Professor Dumbledore has been arrested and detained at an undisclosed location. He was immediately voted out of his position of Chief Warlock and Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Sr. declared an interim replacement. His position as Headmaster of Hogwarts has been suspended and a vote will soon be held by the Board of Governors to decide if he is to be removed. The International Confederation of Wizards has also suspended his position of Supreme Mugwump.

This sudden development has sparked an unprecedented political crisis in the Wizengamot that could not have come at a worse time. The Lords and Ladies have been polarized between those calling for immediate retribution against Dumbledore, on the one side, and his supporters on the other, who would like the investigation to be carried to its full extent before action is taken. Lord Amos Diggory said, "I am as shocked as anyone else by this development, but we must try to understand why Albus acted the way he did. I am sure he only had the girl's best interests at heart and wanted to protect her from retribution by her family's murderer."

Speaking for the anti-Dumbledore faction, which galvanized support almost overnight, Lord Abraxas Malfoy commented: "I could not imagine a more despicable treatment for a fellow witch or wizard. No one deserves to be denied their heritage in such a vile way. It should be plainly obvious that Dumbledore's actions were motivated by his political beliefs and that the supposedly flawless 'vanquisher of Grindelwald' is not above exploiting an innocent child for his personal gain. An eternity in Azkaban is too good for that pathetic excuse for a wizard!"

Many are concerned that this crisis will frustrate the Ministry's response to He-who-must-not-be-named's declaration of war. In other news, the Death Eaters have attacked and killed a number of muggle families last night. The Ministry has refused to comment on any possible relation between these events and the recent revelations.

* * *

**The Daily Prophet**

15 June 1976 price: 3/15

**DUMBLEDORE REMAINS HEADMASTER**

BOARD OF GOVERNORS VOTES IN HEADMASTER'S FAVOR! - JAMES POTTER ASCENDS WIZENGAMOT SEAT - NEW EDUCATION BILL INTRODUCED

Wizards and witches all over Britain were outraged earlier today when the Hogwarts Board of Governors announced their decision to allow Albus Dumbledore to retain his position of Headmaster, provided he be placed on probation and weekly inspection by the Board for 10 years. The Board's decision was taken at a closed meeting and a spokeswizard has declared it final. The International Confederation of Wizards declared that it would not remove him from the position of Supreme Mugwump after a narrow vote among the other Mugwumps which failed only by a single vote.

A closed door hearing of the Supreme Magical Court declared Professor Dumbledore guilty, but shockingly did not sentence him to prison. He shall be required to pay a compensation of 50 million galleons, the largest in recent history, to the Rosier heir.

Dumbledore did not have the same success in the Wizengamot, however, as the anti-Dumbledore faction managed to gain the necessary two-thirds majority to sustain his removal from the position of Chief Warlock and make Mr. Crouch's appointment permanent. The session was marked by another momentous event – the Lords and Ladies recognized Lord James Potter as a Peer of the Magical Realm and he ascended his recently deceased father's seat. Lord Potter is only sixteen years old, but he was granted total emancipation and his father's seat under the end-of-line clause of the Magical Succession Act of 1286.

As his first act in the Wizengamot, the young Lord Potter gave an impassioned speech in which he condemned both He-who-must-not-be-named for his crimes, as well as, surprisingly, his own Headmaster for the recent revelations. He then introduced a bill, co-authored with Lord Malfoy, which would radically reform magical education. It would require the mandatory testing for identification and latent magical talents of all future Hogwarts students and the retroactive testing of all current ones. The bill would also greatly increase the powers of the Hogwarts Board of Governors and severely limit those of the Headmaster. The bill will be voted in two days and analysts claim that if it passed, the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts will in essence become only symbolic.

* * *

To: Julius Fudge, editor-in-chief of _The Daily Prophet_

October 27, 1979

Dear Sir,

The Strategic Information Control Commission has reviewed your article "Lord James Potter to marry Lily Rosier" and has deemed it unfit for publication. It contains several pieces of information which, if published, put its subjects at undue risk of attack by hostile forces.

The Commission would be happy to reconsider your proposal should you make the suggested amendments.

Sincerely yours,

Alfred Yaxley, Senior Censor

* * *

**Department of Magical Law Enforcement**

Strategic Information Control Commission

Time of submission: 11:35 p.m. 31 July 1980

Type of submission: article

Submitting media: _The Daily Prophet_

Title of submitted text: "The Potter heir born today!"

Decision: UNFIT FOR PUBLICATION

* * *

_Malfoy Manor, 18 October 1981_

"So you see, Lucius, this is my plan. This is our only hope," said James Potter in low voice. He looked down at the chessboard between them before declaring, "Knight to B4." The small figurine galloped across the board and smashed the black pawn with a strike from its heavy mace.

"Is there no other way, James? How could it come to this?" Malfoy asked with a contemplative tone. "Bishop to C3."

"I can think of several, but they will not work. It is simply a question of time." His features tensed and he inhaled deeply. "Time," he repeated," is the one thing we lack and all the gold in Gringotts can't buy us more. Riddle, on the other hand, has no such problem. Pawn to C3, takes bishop."

"To think it could come to this. That we are seriously discussing it. It is just…too much, James."

"This is a war of attrition, Lucius, and we cannot afford it. Every passing day, the very thing which we're fighting to protect is being lost, little by little. How many more will have to be sacrificed? Do I look like Dumbledore to you – blinded by some nebulous 'greater good' while magical blood is spilt?" James's eyes wondered off, as though he was sorting through the mental images that were the only remaining home of so many of his friends. "Sirius, Peter, Nott senior, Macmillan, Avery, MacKinnon, Yaxley the elder, Goyle, Bones… And those are only our side. The Order is getting decimated even faster." An intense silence descended upon the room. After what seemed like a full minute, Lucius spoke.

"But he's your son, James. Your only son!"

"Lucius, I know that as a father yourself, you realize how impossible this decision feels. No child deserves such a burden," James replied, looking intently into his friend's blue-grey eyes, "Yet it must be done." Beneath his unmovable calm exterior, Lucius's mind was working itself into overdrive, imagining, taking apart and ultimately rejecting numerous scenarios.

"Maybe there is still time. We can search for them. I can help. I _will_ help." James shook his head.

"By the time we track down and get rid of all of them, all that will be left of magical Britain will be a pile of rubble and rivers of blood. No, this is something which must be done only when peace, however brief, is secured. You must bide your time. It cost us the life of Regulus, but we know Riddle's secret. Make at least _that_ sacrifice count," said James and sat back into his chair again, so that his head withdrew to the shadows behind the golden rays of the setting sun that poured in through the manor's high windows.

"Is the plan already in motion?" Lucius inquired in a half-whisper.

"I have already arranged the bait. The prophecy, ambiguous enough to pass as genuine, has been leaked to Dumbledore. From there, Severus has assured me that it has reached Riddle. It will not be long now. It's just the waiting part that is unbearable." As if sensing Lucius's next question, James continued, "Before you ask me, know that I must face him alone. If you or anyone else comes to my aid, he will just retreat and we will be back to square one. And this ploy won't work twice. Lord Voldemort may be many things, but a fool he is not. No, it must be me. And after that, it is up to Harry…" The silence returned, heavier than before.

"I will protect him like my own son, James. I will do everything for him," Lucius said with renewed determination. "I swear it." James smiled.

"Yes. Of that at least, I have no doubts." He looked down at the table between them and his smile grew into an almost childish grin. "You're forgetting our game, Lucius. Your move!"

* * *

**Clarifications:**

The notation "Xg Y/Z" means X galleons, Y sickles and Z knuts. Thus, "3/15" means the paper costs 3 sickles and 15 knuts. Recall that there are 17 sickles to the galleon and 29 knuts to the sickle (What is it with wizards and primary numbers?). I am using a convention based on the notation of the pre-decimal British pound.

_The Prophet_ uses the convention "V-t" because it is quoting a source but is afraid of the consequences of writing the Dark Lord's name.


	2. Chapter I: The End and the Beginning

**Chapter I: The End and the Beginning**

_Potter Manor, 31 October 1981_

The wards on the manor had barely disintegrated when a frantic Lucius Malfoy apparated in. Nothing could have prepared him for the hellish scene that lay before his eyes. The magnificent gardens were ablaze, trees uprooted, statues smashed to pieces, in short, a scene that resembled the aftermath of a cataclysmic earthquake. The ancient manor was a ruin. The pillars in front were shattered, not a single window remained whole, and most of the left wing had been completely leveled. Lucius spent less than a second taking it all in before leaping forth and breaking into a sprint towards the entrance, brandishing his wand; this was perhaps the most Gryffindor thing he had done in his entire life. It took less than fifteen seconds, which probably appeared even less to his adrenaline-inundated senses, for him to reach the hole that remained in the place of the front door. He posed for another instant to survey the scene inside, which was even more terrible than the last. "Merlin almighty…" he let out. The majestic entry hall was unrecognizable. The entire floor was covered in shattered glass, broken splinters and jagged pieces of marble, crushed tiles, burning shreds of canvas, priceless heirlooms strewn about, several serpents ripped apart and …was that…_blood_! "James!" Lucius cried, "James! Answer me!" Silence, save for the crackling of the flames and the occasional thud or crash. With any hope that his friend was still alive evaporating rapidly, Lucius ran up the crumbling marble staircase. He felt strangely distant, as though it was only willpower and an ocean of adrenaline that kept him going. He reached the tip of the stairs, where he froze and fell to his knees.

There, just a few paces on the floor before him, James Potter lay. His robes were singed and ripped, the herald of an intense battle. His dragonhide vest was in a similar state; blood flowed from a large gash across his chest, sliding down in rivulets over the shiny black scales. The rest of him bore numerous cuts, bruises and burns. He still clutched his wand firmly in his right hand, and the serpentine form of his dead familiar was serenely coiled around his left arm. His wide open eyes gazed into nothing. The final touch was his lips, curved in a half-smile taunting Death itself. And time stood still.

Lucius regarded him, motionless, breathless. His mind was stalling, unable or unwilling to take everything in. A quiet voice reminded him that he knew this was going to happen. Yes, he did. But how does one prepare to see off forever the man he regards as his brother? Who was his brother in everything but blood? His sight drifted to James's open eyes and he recoiled in horror. He could not bear the emptiness, those eyes, devoid of understanding embrace, of resolute fire, of piercing, calculated fury… No, it was too much! Reverentially, Lucius reached forward and closed them. A farewell at last.

The eternity was broken by a shriek, an infant's desperate cry that came from the room behind. Lucius snapped out of his trance-like state in an instant and darted in that direction. He was ecstatic, for that cry could only mean one thing – young Harry had survived! He reached the room from which the sound emanated and stopped at the threshold. Another scene of destruction greeted him. Two of the walls were completely gone, letting in moonlight and frosty air. The center of the room bore all the signs of a massive explosion, a wide scorched circle on the floor, with rays spread in all direction. The air was so intensely laden with raw magic that little sparks occasionally flickered into and out of existence. Across from the entrance, upon a half-destroyed bed lay a crying, shuddering infant with raven hair and deep green eyes. Despite the surrounding destruction, he was unscathed, save for a fresh lightning-shaped cut on his forehead that was still bleeding. Lucius hurried toward the child and took him in his arms. "Shhh! It all over," he whispered. A sudden loud crack behind him brought the adrenalin rushing back through each muscle. Closely holding the baby to his body with his left arm, he spun around, wand drawn on the dark figure that had just apparated.

"It's me, Lucius," the other wizard said in a familiar deep voice.

"Severus." He nodded and relaxed his right arm, still maintaining his hold on the child with the other. Severus Snape spent an instant surveying the damage around them.

"James?" he asked, the answer already present in his tone of voice. Lucius shook his head. Snape closed his eyes and exhaled before asking, "Is the Dark Lord gone, then?" A look at Harry's scar confirmed that before Lucius had answered. "And the boy?"

"He is fine, Severus-" A muffled explosion was heard from somewhere below and the whole house, or at least what remained of it, shook from the impact. "It's falling apart!" Lucius said, visibly agitated. "I will take the boy to safety. You get out of here and handle the aurors. I will be back as soon as possible." He waited for Severus's nod of acknowledgment before apparating away.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy could and would not sleep. As soon as Lucius had left, her mind started the familiar routine of running out nightmare scenarios one by one, each worse than the next. She had been able to quell those anxieties temporarily when young Draco had woken due to a particularly bad nightmare. He was now safely back to sleep. There would be no respite for Narcissa, however. As she sat beside Draco's cot, her mind again slowly relapsed into anxiety. Just as the images were becoming too unbearable and she stood up, she heard Lucius calling her from downstairs. Her nightmarish visions banished by jubilant relief, she rushed down the grand staircase and ran to her husband. He embraced her with one arm. "It's fine, Cissy. It's all over," he said, his voice still shaking.

"Oh, Lucius!" she exclaimed, wiping away a tear.

"Voldemort is dead. It's over at last," he repeated, this time with reassurance. Relief flooded his entire body, replacing the anxiety and adrenalin. The full implications of the night finally downed on him. No more fear. No more danger. No more death. He was, for the first time in many years, truly happy. His attention soon returned to the now sleeping child still tightly held in his left arm. "Take him, Narcissa. He's had quite a night," he said, handing Harry over to her.

"Is he hurt, Lucius?" she asked, trembling, as she saw the scarlet mark on his forehead.

"No. It's fine; just an after effect," Lucius replied, "Do you realize he just survived the killing curse?" Narcissa was speechless. She gently kissed the child on his forehead and held his closely to her. Beside her, Lucius smiled. After several moments, he turned back towards the door and said, "I must go now. The aurors will already be at Potter Manor. Dumbledore will probably be there as well." His smile darkened. Turning back to his wife, he uttered, "I will explain everything when I return."

"Stay safe, Lucius. Promise me."

"Always." A brief kiss, and he was away again. Narcissa waited until she heard the distinct pop of apparition before she returned upstairs with Harry, who was beginning to stir. Careful not to wake Draco, she summoned an elf and together they washed the blood from his forehead and wrapped him in a fresh cloth. By the time they were done, Harry was asleep again. Narcissa rubbed a healing salve onto the scar before she placed him next to Draco. As she watched the two babies sleeping next to each other, a realization dawned on her. For the second time in her life, she had become a mother.

Out of the arched windows, faint showers of fireworks could be seen in the distance.


	3. Chapter II: An Education

**Chapter II: An Education**

The weeks that followed were some of the busiest in Lucius Mafloy's life. Firstly, there was the matter of dealing with the ministry and the press. The whole magical population of Britain was ecstatic as soon as they heard of Voldemort's demise. Spontaneous celebrations and firework displays broke out even before the night was over. The next day had seen the whole of Diagon Alley in jubilation; cheering crowds, festive music, bright pennants and flower petals, fluttering in the breeze. The news soon spread that Britain's savior was only a child. But when it got out somehow that Lucius Malfoy had been named guardian of the boy-who-lived, he found himself continually swarmed by mobs of reporters brandishing dictaquills and flashing cameras who took any opportunity they could to ask about this miraculous child. Lucius steadfastly refused; each time it took the last ounce of his diminishing patience to restrain himself from hexing the crowds into oblivion. It was not until three months later, when a young reporter was found near Malfoy Manor with several broken limbs and no memory of the past 48 hours that they got the message.

The Ministry and the Wizengamot were a different story. Lucius had barely returned to the smoldering ruins of Potter Manor, which were now being swarmed by red-cloaked aurors, when Minister Millicent Bagnold herself arrived, accompanied by Crouch, Sr., and Dumbledore. As the first on the scene, he quickly filled them in on what had happened, taking care to hide his advance knowledge of James Potter's plan. They were soon joined by Snape, who emerged from the manor. "We salvaged as much as we could, but this whole place is a ruin," he declared. Four aurors followed soon after, levitating James Potter's body. Another group behind them were bringing out heaps of objects in various states of destruction. Everyone stood in silence. Lucius conjured a green shroud with the Potter crest and reverentially placed it on his friend's remains. After two wizards in healer robes had taken the body away, the conversation resumed and the topic soon turned to young Harry's fate. When Dumbledore learned that the child had survived, he immediately suggested that he be hidden away from the magical world to protect him from retribution by Death Eaters still at large. Lucius suddenly forgot all his decorum and lunged forward against him; it took the combined efforts of the minister, Crouch and Snape to hold him back. He took an instant to recollect himself and then made it very clear to Dumbledore that if he so much as breathed around Harry, he would wish he hadn't survived his duel with Grindelwald.

The following days were spent in preparing James's funeral and cataloguing the salvaged items from the manor. Lucius set several aside, mostly of sentimental value, such as various photographs and James's old snitch, and he deposited the rest in the Gringotts trust vault that he knew had been set up in Harry's name. In truth, he would have preferred the more secure Potter vault, but the goblins had informed him that it had magically sealed itself until the new Lord Potter's fifteenth birthday. The funeral itself was a quiet and solemn affair, attended only by a select few of James's closest acquaintances; in addition to the Malfoys, there were the Notts, the Greengrasses, Severus Snape, and a few others.

In December, just as things were beginning to quiet down, the nation was shaken by another scandal. Crouch's son had been ousted as a Death Eater by Igor Karkaroff. The Chief Warlock immediately resigned in disgrace, and his former supporters soon faced an increasingly pro-Dumbledore majority. Proving that politicians often have memory spans shorter than goldfish, the Wizengamot restored Dumbledore to his old position in the middle of May of next year. Lucius and a third of the lords walked out in disgust. But even that sensation soon became old news, and, for the first time in years, a strange sense of normalcy descended over Britain.

* * *

The decade that followed was what Lucius Malfoy would, in retrospect, describe as the happiest years of his life. The remaining Death Eaters had either been captured or fled the country. His family was safe. His influence in the Ministry, fueled by connections and gold, grew steadily, and likewise his wealth and investments. But most importantly of all, Draco and Harry were growing up and it was time to begin their education, an endeavor in which no effort or expense would be spared.

The two boys took to each other from the very beginning and henceforth became a constant source of pride and exasperation for Lucius and Narcissa. As soon as they learned to walk, they had started practicing magic, although at that age most of it was still accidental outbursts. The more fundamental aspects of their education were initially Narcissa's responsibility; as they progressed she was replaced by a number of tutors, the finest Lucius could find. The boys had learned to read very early, and by age six had also a grasp of writing and arithmetic. At that point it was decided to start them on foreign languages, initially French, which they took to easily, and a year later German and Latin. The former was frustrating to no end, the latter less so, as they already had a solid grounding in another Latinate language. In supplement to that, Lucius made them read and learn all manner of different books, mostly on wizarding culture, history, society and especially genealogy. In a matter of weeks both were able to recite from memory their entire family trees for the past several centuries, as well as those of several other prominent families.

It was a subject which truly fascinated them; they would sometimes spend hours reading of the lives and exploits of their illustrious ancestors. They remembered some tales since they had been told them as bedtime stories, for instance, the tale of Godfrey de Malfoy, who fought an entire army of djinns during the crusades, or that of Alexis Potter, whose successful duel against twelve French mages had brought about the end of the Hundred Years' War. Other stories were entirely new, however; they read in fascination about the masterful political and diplomatic maneuvering of Septimus Malfoy, which had brought him the nickname "the Metternich of Magic", or about the exotic adventures of Major-General Julius Harold Potter in India in service of the Empire, which had eventually made him head of the Imperial Magical Corps. The latter Harry took a particular interest in, as he was the subject of the only portrait that had survived from Potter Manor and now hung in the corridor outside of Harry's room. It was an impressive sight; the major-general was a tall man with short raven hair and deep blue eyes, obviously descended from the Malfoy side of his family. His tanned face bore an aristocratic moustache and two scars on his left cheek, which he had apparently insisted that the painter include. He was dressed in a military uniform – a red tunic decorated with several awards, muggle and magical, and dark blue trousers – and a light blue wizard cloak above. A formidable king cobra was wound up his left arm, with its head resting on his epauletted shoulder. Harry would sometimes talk to him in his spare time, provided that the portrait was not asleep or in his alternate frame in the Ministry.

In addition to their education in history, the boys were to be instructed in all the fine points of etiquette, manners and the arts by Narcissa. Both of them groaned and resisted initially, but eventually decided it was better to just put up with it. They started with basics – greetings and proper gestures, before moving on to table etiquette. For weeks, every meal was torture; if they picked up the wrong utensil, or the right one in the wrong order, it just disappeared into thin air and they would have to miss that particular course. An elf would observe them closely and reprimand them if they failed to keep a proper posture and table manners. Afterwards they moved on to calligraphy, where they were instructed in proper penmanship with a variety of quills and fountain pens. It was frustrating, having to write out the same passage ad nauseam until they got it perfect, but the payoff was visible at the end. Things took a turn for the worse, relatively speaking, when they moved on to music and dancing ("Oh, horror!"). Many stomped toes later, they did eventually get the hang of waltzing. However, after two tries at the piano, Draco had finally decided to defy his mother and declared it pointless; for once, Lucius was on their side, so that was the end of that.

Lucius took particular care that the boys should be conscious of the muggle world and the adverse consequences it was having on the world of magic. One spring evening, when they were about seven and a half, he gave them a whole stack of books on and some even by muggles. Despite their initial protestations he made it clear that they were to be read thoroughly. The books were mostly histories; they described long and troubled past of wizardkind and muggles. The boys were surprised to find out that, contrary to their expectation, there was a time when muggles and wizards lived in relative harmony. Indeed, their very ancestors had once sworn fealty to a muggle king. However, with the rise of the Church in the Middle Ages, there came about a feeling of fear and resentment. Wizards and witches, who had once been valuable allies, now were seen as dangerous, demonic and wicked. In a sense, this development was inevitable – how could people who had wielded the very fabric of existence from time immemorial submit to such a dogmatic and alien faith? How could anyone convince them that an ancient Palestinian's levitation charm and basic transfiguration were miracles? They would not, and much bloodshed followed. The Inquisition. Witch hunts. Burnings. Massacres. Hatred bred hatred, and wizards responded in kind with their much more formidable arsenal. Europe's finest came together and created a devastating disease which would only affect the muggle population. They unleashed this Black Death in an act of retribution. The muggles were utterly powerless to stop it; any cures that could actually have had a chance to work were denounced as heresy and devilry. This madness went on until the end of the 17th century, when two things happened. First, the International Statute of Secrecy was instituted, finally tearing the magical and non-magical worlds asunder. Second, a number of muggles, some of them muggleborn wizards that chose their world, such as the brilliant alchemist Sir Isaac Newton, began to erode the influence of the Church. Science became the new muggle paradigm, and the more optimistic wizards hoped this would finally show them the light. They were sadly mistaken. Science gave muggles unprecedented power; with steam engines, electricity, chemistry and medicine, they could do things that they had never even dreamed of. But as often is the case, power unchecked grew into hubris. The dogmas of science soon replaced those of the Church. Science and Man were almighty, and Nature herself lay at their feet; at best, a beast to be exploited, at worst, a monster to be slain. The author of one of the books gave a particularly egregious example: there exists a complex charm, _perpetuum mobili_, which can enchant a mechanism to work forever. Yet any learned muggle would swear that this went against the very principles of nature; if shown the device, he would declare it a trick or an illusion. In short, a muggle would reject what he saw with his very eyes rather than consider for a second that his own naïve assumptions could be wrong. These dogmas would not remain in the realm of natural philosophy. They spilled over into every aspect of society. Like wizards, muggles used to respect nobility and birthright and a manifestation of Nature's most basic law: some are born more powerful than others; a hierarchy in which both those above and below could benefit from each other and avoid their worst excesses is the only way to reconcile this truth. Instead, muggles now decreed that all men were equal and nobility was an abomination. New upheaval and bloodshed followed. Despite the veil of secrecy, the wizard world would not be immune to these influences. For over two centuries, its very foundations were crumbling away, and those who took a stand, such as Septimus Malfoy, could only delay, but not repel the tide of chaos.

* * *

As the lessons went on and the days and weeks became months, Harry's ninth birthday eventually arrived. Guests had started to arrive after breakfast, and after the customary exchange of pleasantries, the children had gone upstairs to play. Harry, Draco and their friends Theo Nott and Terry Boot were in Harry's room, concluding a game of exploding snap.

"Snap!" Draco called out, "And I believe that's another game for me."

"Up for a rematch, Draco?" Terry suggested, preparing to deal out the cards again.

"Nah! Later maybe," Draco replied and turned to Harry, "Hey, Harry, can't we try out that new broom of yours?"

"You know father said after lunch," he replied, "Besides, I have another idea." Harry stood up and went to one of the drawers on his cabinet. He rummaged about for a while, before picking up a very realistic imitation mouse. "Anyone wanna tease the major-general's cobra?" The boys' faces lit up at the prospect of watching the animal exasperatedly trying to bite its way out of the canvas. Just as they were about to go out in the corridor, however, a house elf apparated in.

"Master Harry sir," it said, "you is being wanted downstairs."

"I'll be right there," he replied and the elf disappeared. Harry turned to Draco. "I didn't know someone else is coming."

"Oh yeah, father mentioned he invited the Greengrass family and their daughter." Draco replied. Harry froze for a moment.

"Ooh, is it you girlfriend?" Theo inquired teasingly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Nott," Harry replied tersely, "Look, I don't have time for this." He went out in the direction of the staircase. He paused for a moment to quell the butterflies in his stomach with a deep breath, and proceeded, mentally rehearsing the protocol for the situation. He was halfway down the staircase when he saw Lucius, Narcissa and the Lord and Lady Greengrass in the entrance hall, taking refreshments from a tray held by an elf. When he came close, he noticed a girl his age, slightly shorter than him, standing next to Lord Greengrass, half hidden behind him. She had long blond hair and light blue eyes. She wore a simple white dress and had a single blue cornflower tucked into her hair above her left ear. As she noticed him, she tried to hide further behind her father, but he took her hand and brought her forward.

"Ah, Harry, there you are," Lucius exclaimed.

"Lord Greengrass, milady," Harry greeted, and made two small bows which looked more like nods. He then took another deep breath, and, taking the girls' hand into his, declared the traditional formula for a first greeting, "_Te salutam. Harrius sum, filius Jacobi, filius Caroli, haeres generis noblis antiquissimaque Potter_," butchering the declensions in his haste. He then briefly brought the hand to his lips, which prompted a giggle from the girl, before letting it go as though it were red-hot.

"I'm Daphne Greengrass. Sorry, we haven't gotten that far in Latin yet," she replied, her face blushing slightly.

"It-it's fine," he blurted out. "To tell you the truth I massacred half the sentence," he added reassuringly. "So Daphne, would you like to meet the others? They're in my room" He nodded to the stairs.

"Sure. Oh, and happy birthday, Harry," she replied.

"Thanks." Harry turned to Lucius, "Father, we-"

"Just a moment," Lord Greengrass interjected. "Here's your present, Harry." He took a small rectangular parcel in festive wrapping from his inside pocket. He placed in to the floor and tapped with his wand. It expanded to several times its former size.

"Can't it wait until after lunch, Hugo," Narcissa asked.

"Narcissa, I insist. Open it, Harry!"

Harry thanked him and pulled on the red ribbon. The rest of the wrapping came apart on its own and before him was a small cage which contained a rather agitated dark green snake. "_Put me down, stupid human. I am not a plaything!_" it hissed indignantly. Harry laughed, which brought the serpent's attention to him.

"_Don't worry, he didn't mean to upset you_," Harry said to the snake.

"_A speaker! Oh, joy, a speaker!_"

"_Here, I'll let you out._" He released the latch on the cage and the serpent quickly coiled itself around his outstretched left arm.

"_I am forever in your service, master,_" the snake said. Harry could feel a strange tinge of magic as soon as it made contact with him.

"Thank you, Lord Greengrass," Harry said and bowed again.

"Don't mention it, Harry. I knew it would come in handy for someone of your talents."

With the official business taken care of, Harry and Daphne made their excuses and started up the stairs. They were nearly at the top when Daphne asked, "So you can talk to snakes, huh?"

"Yes. It's been in my family for centuries," he answered, pointing at the cobra on the portrait of the major-general, who gave them a salute as they passed.

"Cool!"

"C'mon, let's introduce you to the others. And I can give you my old Latin book, it's very useful."

The rest of the day went very well indeed. The other boys were nervous at first, but soon got used to the presence of their new acquaintance and before they knew it, they were intensely at play again. Harry had decided to name his new pet Julius, in honor of his ancestor. The major-general beamed with pride when they showed it to him. They were called down to lunch, and afterwards went out to try Harry's Cleensweep 6, a brand new broom that wouldn't be on the market for a month (having a guardian who was a major shareholder in the company did have its advantages!). The boys and Daphne each took a turn circling the manor and the grounds. By tea time, the guests had started leaving. The children agreed to meet the following week at the Greengrass home on Daphne's invitation.

After dinner, Lucius called Harry and Draco into his study. He had been saving the best gift for last. He took out a long black box from the drawer of his desk and handed it to Harry, who opened it. Inside lay a masterfully crafted dark brown wand. "Fourteen inches, ash and unicorn hair. This was your father's wand, Harry," Lucius said quietly. Harry's eyes widened. He carefully took out the wand and closely regarded its intricate patterns, the mark of a true artisan. Clutching it, he felt a type of inexplicable connection, faint and distant yet unmistakably present.

"T-thank you, sir," he said. Lucius turned to Draco.

"And this is for you," he said, handing him a shorter wand that was slightly curved at the hilt, "Twelve inches, walnut and dragon heartstring. This used to belong to your aunt Bellatrix before she betrayed your mother." Draco was shocked. He examined the wand intensely before gripping it with force, almost as though he was trying to assert his power.

"Thank you, father."

"These wands may not be perfect, but will most likely show some affinity towards you. I'm afraid you will have to wait a while before you get your own made," he paused as both boys nodded in understanding. "The reason I am giving you these," he continued, "is because starting from next week, you will begin the Hogwarts first year curriculum with your tutors. You look surprised. Don't be. These are all basic things that any wizard or witch would know at your age just several generations ago. It is only in recent times that standards have been, shall we say, slipping away."

"It's because of the muggleborns, right, father?" asked Draco. Lucius nodded before continuing:

"You shall cover the basic subjects with your tutors. In the evenings, you will have lessons with me. It is time you were taught rhetoric, diplomacy and political economy," Lucius had not even finished his sentence before ecstatic grins appeared on the boys' faces. He had one more surprise left; realizing that they would hardly be able to sleep from the excitement already, he told them that Theo and their new friend Daphne would be joining their lessons.

* * *

**Clarification:**

Harry's formal greeting means "_I greet you. I am Harry, son of James, son of Charlus, heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter._"


	4. Chapter III: The Madness of Crowds

**Chapter III: The Madness of Crowds**

Harry and Draco could hardly wait for the start of their lessons; from the firecalls they exchanged, it was evident their friends were in a similar state. It took them a little over than three days to thoroughly digest the books they had been assigned, so the remainder of the week had to be excruciatingly waited out. In the evening before their first day, Lucius gave them out schedules, pointing out that they would have the same at Hogwarts. Mornings were to be devoted to the Hogwarts curriculum, comprising Transfiguration, Charms, Combat Magic (Lucius insisted on the traditional name for Defense against the Dark Arts), Herbology and History of Magic, in that order. When they inquired about potions, Lucius said he was saving it for next summer. The evening lessons, which were to be held in Lucius's study and a specially prepared adjacent room, comprised Rhetoric and Public Speaking, Magical Law, Diplomacy and Geopolitics, and finally Political Economy and Finances. Friday evenings were to be left free.

Next morning, Harry and Draco awoke unusually early. They quickly got ready and headed down to breakfast, where they were joined first by Theo and then by Daphne, both of whom arrived by floo. Their first lesson was held in the formal dining room, which had been prepared for the purpose. They were greeted by their tutor, a short, mousy wizard with graying hair from the Department of Magical Education by the name of Mr. Marchbanks. He reintroduced himself for the benefit of the two new students, from which they learned he was an accomplished Transfiguration Master and a NEWT Level examiner. Afterwards he lectured for a short while, just to make sure the students had learned the theory, before he started the classic exercise of changing matchsticks to needles. Harry had done this when he was six, although then he was using Lucius's wand; it took his a minute to readjust for his new one and soon he was making the objects rapidly switch back and forth. The others were making similar progress. Upon noticing this, Mr. Marchbanks gave them the more difficult task of changing the matchstick into a gold needle, and after they succeeded at this as well, moved on to more complex objects such as teacups and saucers. He then spent another hour or so explaining the concepts Form Transformation and Substance Transmutation which combined to effect a transfiguration; it was something Harry and his friends had understood subconsciously, which was probably the reason for their rapid success, but hadn't seen it described explicitly. When the clock struck one, Mr. Marchbanks concluded his lecture, assigned some theoretical reading and showed them how to turn a plate into a teapot, which they were to practice until next Monday. He left through the floo, while the hungry students went to lunch.

After they had had their fill, they spent the afternoon practicing their transfiguration and going over the reading that Lucius had assigned. At last, the clock struck six and they set out to the study upstairs. Lucius was waiting for them, although it did not seem as though he had prepared anything special as the contents of the room had not been rearranged.

"Good evening, father," said Harry and Draco almost in unison.

"Good evening, Lord Malfoy," added Theo and Daphne, the former with a bow and the latter with a curtsey.

"Yes, yes. Now then! You are here to learn the science and art of persuasion and public speaking. You were instructed to prepare and memorize a two-hundred word speech on a subject of your choice. Have all of you done so?" The four nodded. "Right. Your task is very simple. Go through that door"-he indicated the closed door on the far right wall-"and deliver your speech."

"Is that all to it, father?" Draco inquired cautiously.

"Obviously not. There is little point in addressing an empty room. You will find that the interior has been modified for our purpose. You should experience a full crowd and its reactions." The children slightly paled, Daphne more than the boys. "Alright, Harry, you go first."

Walking slowly, Harry reached the door, opened it and stepped through. After going through a short dark passage, he found himself in a massive amphitheatric hall which reminded him of the pictures he had seen of the Wizengamot chambers. Each of the concentric semi-circles of benches rose higher than the previous one. The entire hall was packed with all manner of people, most of who were in intense conversation with each other. Harry was in the center of the stage, with just a simple podium in front, and a rather large circular metallic microphone, obviously added for his benefit as he had yet to study the Sonorus Charm. He stepped up toward the podium, took a deep breath and began, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen." His amplified voice reverberated through the hall. As soon as he had spoken, all conversation ceased and all eyes turned on him, gazing intently and intensely. He jumped back, but then tried to steady himself and continued, "I have come here this evening to talk to you about…about- um…" His heart was pounding and his palms were sweating. His mind was desperately trying to grasp at the words of his speech but he soon found that it was like trying to grasp water in his hands; the more he struggled to remember, the less he could actually recall, and he panicked even more. The demanding gazes of the crowd were still upon him, but now he could hear a rumbling noise which grew louder until it became distinct boos and shouts. Desperate to salvage the situation, he tried again, "The question which I would like to address is- is… the question is…" It was futile, and some people in the crowd started to point at him and laugh derisively. The mocking laughter soon spread to everyone in the room. At that point it all became too much for Harry and he turned back and ran to the entrance. He emerged, pale, sweating and breathing heavily. The sight of him filled the other three with apprehension. Just as he was about to open his mouth to tell about his experience, however, Lucius held up his hand.

"Later, Harry. I want everyone to have a go first," he said. Harry nodded, and took a seat in one of the chairs opposite Lucius's desk. The others did not do much better than him. Theo went in and emerged in a similar state after roughly the same time as Harry had. Draco lasted a bit longer, but he was soon out as well. Daphne's time was the shortest and she was in tears when she emerged. Lucius summoned a house elf with refreshments and a calming potion for Daphne. When everyone was back to a relatively serene state, he continued the lesson. "What you saw was, of course, an illusion. I admit I made the crowd more hostile than usual, but that is just because I wanted you all to understand how quickly a crowd will change its feelings and," he said with emphasis on the last part, "the sheer force that a mob can have on an individual. More often than not, you must take charge of a crowd or be crushed by it." Lucius then proceeded to give a lecture on the points that they had already read about but had no practical experience of. Public speaking, he explained, was first and foremost about confidence. Intent came second, and only then did word choice, diction, intonation and rhetoric. He paused occasionally and asked questions, to ensure it was all understood. When the clock struck eight, he dismissed them, saying "I promise you that by next Christmas you will make that crowd worship you. And Daphne, I've wagered a thousand galleons against your father on that, so I have an added incentive."

As the four weary students were walking down the stairs, Theo exclaimed, "That was amazing!"

"I can't wait till tomorrow," Daphne concurred.

"Will you stay for dinner?" Draco offered.

"No thanks, my parents are expecting me and my little sister has probably gone crazy by now," Daphne politely declined. Theo also made his excuses. Soon Daphne and he were off, and Harry and Draco on their way to dinner. They quickly went through the rest of the evening and then to bed, eager for what the next day would bring.

* * *

Tuesday morning's lesson was charms, which was taught by a young wizard in his late twenties named Terrance Johnson. He explained that he was a graduate from the Geneva Institute of Magical Research and was currently working on his Charms Mastery at the _É__cole sup__é__rieure de magie_ in Paris. He clearly preferred the practical approach, as after fifteen minutes of lecturing he said, "Alright, wands out, everybody! Now, I know that you've already done the levitation charm so we're not going to waste time with feathers." He then opened his briefcase and took out four metal spheres. "Each one of these," he continued, "is two hundred grams of solid steel." He waved his wand and the spheres flew out towards the students, gently landing in front of them. "The first step to mastering the charm is control. It's usually taught with feathers as they are practically weightless. The next step, however, is power. You must be able to counteract the effects of gravity on the object. Now, one, two, three, begin!"

"_Wingardium leviosa_," the four said at once, but the balls just shuddered slightly. It was evident that this would be more difficult than it appeared. It took them the better part of an hour until they could get the steel balls to hover in place, and then another hour to learn to move them around slowly.

"So far so good," their tutor said, "Now there is one last step, which is much more difficult. In fact, you probably won't manage it today. I'm talking about mastering the object's inertia. When an object is traveling at speed, the heavier it is, the more likely it is to continue in a line and resist changes to its path." He took out his wand and created several glowing hoops of light in the air. "Now I want you to get the spheres through that course as fast as you can. You first, Mr. Malfoy." Draco stepped up and lifted his sphere in the air. He got it through the first hoop easily, and by the time it had reached the second it had picked up some speed. The third, however, was at right angles to its trajectory; Draco tried to make the ball swerve, but it was going too fast and slammed right into the window in front of it, which had fortunately been charmed to be unbreakable. None of the others managed to get any further either. After another hour or so, Mr. Johnson declared the lesson over. "I'll leave you the course for practice," he said and waved his wand around. The hoops gathered around it and were lead to a small metallic device that slightly resembled a muggle lighter. A flick of the switch on the device and they disappeared inside of it. With another flick they jumped out, one by one, and assumed their previous positions. Having explained how to work the device, their tutor also assigned some theory reading and was on his way.

The evening's lesson was rather shorter and quieter than the day before. When they came into the study, four comfortable chairs were prepared. Lucius handed them several books on magical law and began his lecture. "The most important thing you must remember is that laws are written in words. This may seem obvious, but the fact is that any law is only as strong as the words that define it. As such, you must have a sharp and observant mind and a mastery of language and its nuances if you want to avoid and ambiguity or loopholes, or, conversely, if you intend to create them. Very few are capable of fully grasping the law, and even fewer of properly creating new laws. It is nevertheless a skill that you must make your best effort to learn. After all, you will all be legislators one day." The four nodded in understanding. Lucius then proceed with introducing some and explaining some basic terms, most of which they had already encountered in Latin lessons. However, to everybody's surprise, he dismissed them when the clock struck seven. "There little more we can accomplish here tonight, and I've just had an idea about your lesson tomorrow and I must make preparations. Besides," he added, "you will need to be rested for tomorrow morning."

"About that, father," Draco inquired, "You never told us who out new Defense tutor would be."

"You will find out soon enough," said he with a smile. "Now, off you go!"

As they had finished early, Theo and Daphne agreed to stay for dinner. Soon they found themselves in the formal dining hall, the site of the morning's activities. All conversation was in speculation of the identity of their new tutor.

"I'm certain it's an auror. Maybe Madam Bones herself?" Draco mused as he ate a slice of his steak in béarnaise sauce. "The elves have outdone themselves this time," he added.

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco. She is far too busy," said Theo.

"Perhaps Crouch Senior?" Daphne suggested, "He's had a lot of free time since his fall from grace."

"I doubt it. Father mentioned the other day that they're going to appoint him ambassador somewhere. It was some really obscure place. Albania, I think," said Draco. "Your thoughts, Harry?" Harry was holding out a peace of his steak for Julius, whose head was protruding from his sleeve. The snake shot forward and swallowed it whole.

"I dunno. Mad-Eye Moody?" he proposed.

"Impossible!" Theo exclaimed. The retired auror was one of the most divisive figures in the country. Half were convinced he was a genius of combat, half believed he was clinically insane, and both sides agreed that for him the line between the two was much thinner than it ought to be.

"At any rate, we'll see tomorrow," Daphne concluded. "Ooh, dessert!" she noted, seeing the house elves approaching with laden trays.

* * *

**Note:** My sincerest thanks for your reviews so far. As I mentioned before, I dislike revealing the plot in advance, so the curious will have to wait. That said, parts of it can be extrapolated if you catch the Easter eggs lying about, though not all of them will be relevant; some are just witty references to history, philosophy and the sciences, social and natural.


	5. Chapter IV: Constant Vigilance

**Chapter IV: Constant Vigilance**

Wednesday morning came about quite quickly. Rested, fed and prepared, the four students set out towards the site of the previous evening's dinner. When they entered, the place was unrecognizable. All the exquisite furniture had disappeared; a number of training dummies and round targets had replaced it. Most of the curtains had been drawn, leaving the room in a state of semi-darkness. A light mist, its source unseen, hovered low above the floor, the finishing touch to the eerie spectacle. All four students froze and took out their wands. Cautiously, Harry went forward step by step, surveying his surroundings. The others followed closely behind, eyes alert and wands at the ready. Each step left a fain echo, and for a moment Harry thought he could hear another noise, that of wood striking stone, whenever the group moved forward. When they stopped, however, it was quiet. Too quiet.

Harry felt it first. A sudden surge in the ambient magic, similar in feeling to static electricity. Before he had even consciously processed the implications, he instinctively jumped to his right and took Daphne in his arms. He pulled her out of the path of the red beam, which passed less than an inch from her face. "Get down!" he yelled. At that point he realized he had missed the other stunner that was heading for his chest. He swerved again to avoid it, but by this point his body had assumed a position in which maintaining balance was impossible. He fell on his back, taking Daphne with him. As soon as he touched the ground, he let her go and rolled over so that he would face the direction from which the attack came from. He could now faintly make out the shadowy figure of their assailant. He raised his wand and cried, "_Expelli-_" He was cut short as his wand was suddenly and violently yanked from his hand by an invisible force in the direction of the attacker. The entire episode lasted less than four seconds.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" bellowed a voice from the other side of the room, obviously belonging to their assailant, At that moment the curtains were lifted and the room was filled with blinding light. When Harry's sight re-adjusted, he finally saw their unmistakable attacker. His face had rough, crudely cut features and bore an uncountable number of scars, and a rather large piece of his nose was missing. His left eye was deep set and brown, whereas the right was slightly larger and light blue, and was swerving about independently of the other. He was dressed in simple combat robes and supported himself with a large wooden staff. The latter was probably needed on account of his wooden left leg, which resembled the claw of some kind of beast. He was currently examining Harry's wand with great interest, but when his blue eye made contact with Harry's gaze, he broke out in hearty laughter. Clearly, he had considered the entire incident very amusing.

"Amazing," Daphne uttered with baited breath. His adrenalin rush fading, Harry suddenly remembered he was not alone. He turned to his left and saw, reassuringly, that Daphne was fine. His other friends were a different story. Draco and Theo both lay flat on their backs in various states of disorientation, their wands nowhere to be seen.

"They will be fine," their former enemy said, seeing Harry's concerned expression. "By the way, I am-"

"Mad-Eye Moody!" Draco exclaimed as he suddenly came to. He quickly got up and turned, starry eyed, to their new tutor. "I can't believe it!" He sounded unusually cheerful for someone recently thrashed. Theo got up an instant later with a groan, but he soon joined Draco in his fascination when he discovered who had attacked him.

"Yes, well, at least that's out of the way," said Moody, "Take a seat." He indicated the four cushioned chairs that had appeared behind them. The four walked, or, in Draco and Theo's case, limped to the chairs. "That was a good start, Mr. Potter. The rest of you, pathetic but unsurprising. If I were a Death Eater all of you'd be dead," Moody commented in his customary gruff tone. The students, still slightly shocked, listened attentively. In Harry had been paying closer attention to his friend, he would have noticed that for the first time in his life, Draco was not only taking a berating without protest, but actually seemed to enjoy it. Moody handed their wands back, smiling when he came to Harry's.

Five minutes later, when his students had recovered at least, Moody began the lesson in earnest. The first surprise came when he told them he would not be using the Hogwarts books. "Don't look at me like that," he snapped. "This rubbish isn't worth the paper it's printed on." He summoned one of the books in question from a table of the far side of the room. Opening it on a random page, he read aloud, in a mockingly feminine high-pitched voice, "_'The _voco aegis_ charm is a useful basic barrier that can protect you from light to moderate hexes and jinxes. To cast it, assume a position facing your opponent, make the wand movements described in figure 21.B and enunciate the incantation.'_" By the time he had reached the end of the passage the students were chuckling. "What Ms. Goshawk apparently cannot comprehend," Moody continued in his own scathing voice, "is that in the two and a half seconds that it takes you to do that, I will have disemboweled you with the Evisceration Curse, which, might I add, is not blocked by that cute little light show she calls a barrier. The dolts that write the curriculum do not see the point in teaching the proper Shield Charm, the one that can actually save your life, until the fourth year." Moody closed the book and threw it over his shoulder. "If you insist on inflicting that nonsense on yourself, you can waste your own time." Having finished his small rant, Moody proceeded with the day's lesson. "We will start with classical dueling. Most of what we will cover in the next six weeks will still be useless in a real fight, but at least we can then build on from the basics. Oh, and you'll probably impress your friends at Hogwarts. If standards keep falling the way they do, I guarantee you should be able to take on fifth years when you get there." The boys' faces especially lit up at the latter prospect. "Now, I'm sure that you've been taught all the bows and pompous posturing, so we'll skip that." Moody paused, but his magical eye continued to dart between the students with its penetrative gaze. "Have you been told about the six forms?"

"We've read about them, sir," Daphne replied, "But I don't really get it. Are they some special moves or spells?"

"The book is really vague on that bit," Draco added. He then asked with a barely contained grin, "Could you perhaps show them to us, sir?" Moody sighed.

"I suppose you deserve a little show after that clusterf-, er, _mess_. And remind me to get you proper books next time." Moody stepped away from the four chairs and moved to the center of the room. With a swish of his wand, he summoned several of the training dummies in a semicircle behind him. "To begin with, a form is more than a style or a set of moves. It is an aspect that you assume, a state of mind; a broad descriptor of a particular approach to using magic in combat. If that sound like waffle, it's because it is. A form is something that is experienced, not explained, though this doesn't stop self-proclaimed authorities on dueling from spewing out entire tomes in trying. Forms are difficult to describe beyond the initial stance because of the fluid nature of combat, and even then it only applies to controlled dueling settings. A master duelist will learn to execute all of them with varying degrees of skill, but will usually have an affinity for one of them, which he will then try to perfect. Discovering which form suits you best can only be done by experience. There are no shortcuts. Spend enough time in combat and eventually it will become your second nature." He paused, threw his walking staff aside and removed his over-cloak to reveal the dark-red sleeveless dueling robe he was wearing. He then took out his wand and turned to face the dummies, which had drawn their fake wands on him.

"The first form," Moody continued, "is a bit hard to define because it is the most basic. Most wizards who are taught to fight will not progress beyond it. It's also the most ancient, which you can see from the opening stance." He stood with legs apart at slightly more than shoulder width, his wand arm extended three-fourths of the way; he held his wand at an angle, gripping it like a sword. "This pose has been found on murals in Egypt that are several millennia old." Moody then flicked his wand lightly and the dummies became animated and started firing stunners at him. He leapt out of the way with surprising agility, especially given his impairment. His four students looked on astonished as he sent out several Reductor Curses in rapid succession, each time moving his arm slightly to adjust his aim. Within seconds, the dummies were in pieces. A lazy flick of his wand and they repaired themselves, assuming their initial inactive position. "There is very little else to say about this particular form. It prioritizes aim and accuracy, and is equally suited for offense and defense. Professional duelists and aurors avoid it, unless they want to throw the opponent off balance or they are experimenting with a new spell or move in training," he concluded. He paused for a moment to check that the students had taken everything in, and received four approving nods in response.

"The second form," he announced. With a swish of his wand, he sent back all of the dummies except one, which was directly facing him. "An elegant, sophisticated style from a simpler age. It evolved from fencing and as such is best against single opponents. If you find yourself in a dueling competition, the crowd loves it. The initial move is this." He stood fully erect with his wand arm raised so that the wand hilt was slightly above eye level; he then executed a large downward slash that brought his right hand in front of his hip. "This used to be a formal salute among duelists, though nowadays you would be stupid not to use that move to cast your first attack or your shield." The dummy opposite executed a similar movement and they started to casually trade curses with each other. The motions were graceful and fluid, though not at the expense of revealing weaknesses. Strike, dodge, counterattack, riposte. From the side, the back-and-forth motion slightly resembled a game of tennis. "Notice," Moody talked over the combat, paying no attention to his instinctive moves, "that we are moving back and forth along a straight line, similar to a dueling platform. Also, note that I am keeping my feet on the ground at all times. This form is useful if your mobility is limited by fatigue, injury or old age, or if you are in a confined place like a corridor or tunnel. I am trying to keep my distance from my opponent until he tires and lets his guard down. _Confringo!_" The well-aimed blasting curse finally overwhelmed the dummy and it split into several burning pieces. Moody turned back to his students. "Because of its popularity among stage dueling stars, the second form has sometimes been called the 'peacock style.' Famous users of this form, which are regarded as masters of it include the renowned potioneer Horace Slughorn and the late Abraxas Malfoy. Yes, Mr. Malfoy, your grandfather won the Hogwarts dueling cup six years in a row with this style." Draco was beaming with pride.

"Now then, the third." For this demonstration Moody summoned all of the dummies and had them surround him. "This is the most defensive style of them all. You always start off with a shield and this is your opener. _Protego_!" After casting his shield, he assumed a semi-crouching stance; he held his wand horizontally, slightly above his head, and pointing forward, while his left arm was half stretched and his left palm was opened. The dummies fired at his from all directions. The first volley was absorbed by his shield, but it soon gave way. He ducked to two curses, then turned around and cast the counters to another one, before moving out of the way of three stunners. He recast his shield and counterattacked the nearest dummy, shattering it. This continued for two more minutes. When the last dummy had hit the floor, Moody continued his explanation, "You will have noticed that I remained in the same spot. The eye of the storm, if you will, which is why the colloquial name for the third form is the 'hurricane style.' What you didn't see is the three perimeters that I was drawing in my mind. There are different approaches to threats in each one of them, but more on that in a few weeks. Other than that, this form relies on shields and counter-curses, so it can be very draining. After a few minutes, most will either switch to a more aggressive style to create and opening or will begin their retreat. But a wizard with a large reserve of power can become nearly invincible. This is the preferred style of Madam Bones, but its greatest master to date is old Dumbles. In fact, that's how he won his famous duel – it was a battle of attrition; after nine hours, Grindelwald collapsed from magical exhaustion." Harry had chuckled at his name for Dumbledore. Moody then repaired and readjusted the dummies for his next demonstration.

"The fourth form is somewhat special. For one, it is much more physical and athletic than the others. The initial stance looks like this." He crouched, bringing his left leg and knee forward and placing his right leg further back. His right hand was extended half-way, his wand held upwards and slightly to the back. He did not look very comfortable in that position, his wooded leg shaking slightly. His next move was surprised everyone. He leapt into the air with uncharacteristic agility and speed, sending down a sweeping volley of curses that dispatched three dummies. He landed with a powerful shockwave that threw two others off balance. An instant later, he executed a sweeping kick, following it up with a blasting curse in the opposite direction. He moved in a blur, with unmatched reflexes and alacrity. Harry noticed that half of his attacks were actually physical: punches and kicks supplemented his spellwork. "That was a somewhat limited demonstration. A true master will likely stay in the air as much as possible to gain an advantage. This superior position has led some to dub the fourth form 'griffin style.' You should also note that this form requires you to be in excellent physical condition to use effectively, and even then it can be very tiring. Most users of this style are in more danger of succumbing to fatigue than being overpowered, especially against a master of form three. That, or closed, narrow spaces, which render is nearly useless. The greatest living master of the fourth form is Professor Filius Flitwick. His small size gives him a particular advantage when it comes to the aerial acrobatics."

"On to the fifth," Moody continued. He revived the unfortunate dummies for yet another thrashing. "A synthesis of sorts between the second and fourth forms. It's less physical than the latter but more aggressive than the former. You start with your wand arm lowered in front of the opposite leg, and then make an upward diagonal slash. This usually guarantees you get the first strike." He was already battling the dummies before he had even finished speaking. He went on as he fought, "The key here is to keep the initiative. Follow each enemy attack with a counterattack. Parry, rather than dodge. Keep moving towards your opponent, keep him on the defensive, keep him guessing, and don't let him rest. If you are overwhelmed, retreat and resume the attack from a different direction. Use overwhelming force; there's a reason this is called the 'dragon style.'" The remaining dummies soon succumbed to the relentless assault. "This style requires endurance, and very good focus and mental discipline. It is Severus Snape's preferred form. It was also mastered by your father, Mr. Potter." Moody took a moment to rest before he moved to the final demonstration. He reanimated his targets again, this time making them bigger and giving each two wands.

"Sixth form," he said with a smile, "the basilisk style." He let his actions do the rest of the talking. He jumped forth and unleashed a torrent of curses on the throng. His casting was so fast that it was impossible, at least for the untrained eyes of the four students, to distinguish their number or nature. His movements were erratic and sudden. He continued his assault, thrusting and brandishing his wand. By now it was evident that he was using much more powerful and darker curses than before. When he turned sideways, the four could see that his expression had changed. His real eye blazed with fury, his magical one was gyrating uncontrollably, and his mouth was twisted into a maniacal grin. The ferocious onslaught lasted roughly twenty seconds, and when he was done, absolutely nothing remained of his opponents. His students looked on in absolute awe. Moody finally put away his wand and picked up his staff to steady himself. After a moment, he proceeded, "This is an evolution from the fifth form. Only a handful have ever mastered this style. This is because there are no special, defined movements or sequences. The key is to unleash your emotions. Wrath. Rage. Fury. Unleash chaos on the battlefield. This style works best when driven by controlled anger, and that is why some have even called is a Dark Art. Incidentally, those are the same ones who have no potential to learn it. The legend has it that Slytherin himself created it, and, in addition to yours truly, it is the preferred style of Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort."

"Now, then. I've been playing for you long enough. Get off your behinds and get to work!" he concluded and vanished the four chairs on which his students were sitting.

* * *

**Note: **Apologies for the delay. I was trying to make Moody sound less like an encyclopedia. This is as much as I managed to cut down the 'technobabble.'


	6. Chapter V: Realpolitik

**Chapter V: **_**Realpolitik**_

When Moody finally ended his class at the strike of one, his four students left the hall in a state of complete exhaustion. They slowly dragged themselves into the lounge and collapsed into the comfortable sofas and couches. A half-dozen elves were summoned with refreshments and potions. Four others brought huge feather fans and began waving them. "That…man…is a maniac," said Draco, still gasping for breath.

"Absolute slavedriver," Theo groaned in concurrence.

"What happened to 'awesome' and 'genius'?" teasingly asked Harry who had recovered his breath but otherwise was in a state similar to Draco's.

"Harry, if you ever hear me call him that again, hex me."

Thirty minutes and a handful of potions later, the four had recovered some of their stamina, but were not feeling like having a full lunch. Instead, the elves brought several snacks and sandwiches. Around three, several owls arrived carrying a large parcel. It was the books Moody had promised, and the rest of the afternoon was spent going through them. When the clock struck six, the students ascended the stairs to Lucius's study.

"How did you like your new tutor?" he greeted them. The pained expression on Draco's face said everything. "If you think he was being tough with you, be grateful you aren't his auror trainees. In fact, I only convinced him in the last minute not to ambush you during breakfast."

"Still, I have to admit he was very good, Mr. Malfoy," Daphne said.

"True enough. Now, today I was going to introduce the basics of diplomacy and negotiation. Instead, I decided to let you derive them for yourselves first-hand. Follow me," said Lucius, indicating the side door. They did so apprehensively, still remembering what lay on the other side last time. The sight that greeted them was quite different. Several comfortable couches were placed in the four corners of the rectangular room, each of them surrounded with the telltale shimmer of a privacy ward. The center of the room was occupied by a massive square table, probably large enough for twelve. As they came closer, it became apparent that on it lay a huge map of Europe and several boxes of strange counters on the side. The children and Lucius gathered around the table.

"A game?" Draco inquired.

"Very observant, Draco. This game was introduced in Slytherin about a decade before my time and it has been immensely popular since. I'm sure you will have quite a challenge when you get to Hogwarts."

"How does it work?" Harry asked.

"Before you, there is a map of Europe at the start of 1900. You will notice that the seven great powers have different colors, while the rest is 'unclaimed' territory. Now, since we have only four players, we won't be needing these." Lucius waved his wand and Germany, Austria-Hungary and Italy disappeared from the map, leaving more empty territory behind. "Before we go any further, we must determine who you will be playing as." He took out a small black pouch, offering it first to Harry, who reached in and pulled out a small white colonial pith helmet, similar to the one the major-general would occasionally put on. "Britain," Lucius announced. Next, Daphne got a dark blue bicorne with a red, white and blue stripe on it. "France." Draco pulled out a black fur hat with a golden double-headed eagle in front. Russia. A red Ottoman fez was left for Theo. With a flick of his wand, Lucius enlarged the hats to normal size.

"Are the hats strictly necessary?" Harry asked as he was putting his helmet on.

"Not really; just a Slytherin tradition that was started by your father when he was showing off his transfiguration skills one night. Now then, back to the game. Each power starts off with two armies and a fleet, except Britain, which has two fleets and an army, and Russia, which has two of each due to its size." Lucius hadn't even finished speaking when several of the little soldier and ship figures in the boxes came to life and assumed their positions on the map. They were amazingly detailed, right down to the soldiers' distinct uniforms and the little swiveling turrets of the dreadnaughts. "This may be obvious, but armies can only move on land and fleets only on water or into territories adjacent to water. A fleet can also carry an invading army across a body of water," he continued his explanation, "Each unit is of equal strength, so it takes a numerical advantage to overpower your enemy in a particular battle. Turns represent six months, and if a unit of yours ends up in an unclaimed territory at the end of the turn, you gain it. You will also notice some of the provinces have supply dumps in them." Little piles of crates and gunpowder barrels sprang up across the map like mushrooms. "You can only have as many units as you have supply depots, and the first one to capture more than half of them wins. Since you are new to the game, you will play with five-minute turns. Write your orders to your units on a piece of parchment, and give them to Twinky here at the end of each turn. He will read them out." A house elf appeared with a pop, and he was wearing a comically oversized military cap. "We usually had firsties do that," Lucius added with a smile. The four still looked rather confused by the whole exercise. Noticing that, Lucius explained, "This is not meant to be a simulation of history, geography or warfare. The point is the negotiations between you. You cannot win by military tactics alone. You must make compromises, treaties, alliances. And when the time is best, you must break them and take advantage of the chaos. That is why I have provided you with several couches with privacy wards. Now, I'll check back in an hour, I have some work to do." Lucius went out of the room to his desk.

The first few turns went smoothly, with all four staying around the table. The partition of the unclaimed regions was negotiated peacefully and in the open. Harry ceded Sweden to Draco, in exchange for eastern Scandinavia and access to the Baltic. He also claimed and occupied the Netherlands and northern Germany all the way up to Berlin. He and Daphne agreed to keep the English Channel demilitarized and that the British fleets wouldn't enter the Mediterranean without previous agreement. Daphne took Belgium, the Iberian Peninsula, Bavaria, and most of northern Italy, ceding North Africa to Theo in exchange for Sicily. The latter had already agreed to a demilitarized zone in the Black Sea with Draco, so he easily stormed through the southern and eastern Balkans. Draco gobbled up the remainder of eastern and central Europe all the way to Vienna. "It is now being the spring of 1903," Twinky announced. The atmosphere suddenly became much tenser. There were no more unclaimed territories, so the next move would definitely mean war. The question was who would blink first. Harry nodded to Draco and the two withdrew behind one of the wards.

"Look, Harry," Draco began, "I say we take them out first and then we can finish the game between ourselves."

"You're about as subtle as a stampeding elephant," Harry teased. "But as it happens, I was thinking along the same lines. Not immediately, though. I'll try to ally with Daphne first. You do the same with Theo, and we'll stab both in the back. Then we can have our game."

"Let me move the Finland fleet into the southern Baltic. This way it will look as if I'm preparing to attack you," Draco suggested. Harry though for a moment. True, that would be a good ruse, but it was also leaving his continental armies dangerously exposed from the north.

"Fair enough," he eventually decided, "but stay out of Sweden. And maybe move the army from the Ukraine into Galicia to frighten Daphne so I can convince her to join me."

"Will do."

With that decided they left the silenced corner and set off in opposite directions. Harry joined Daphne on one of the larger couches, where she had just been in conversation with Theo. "Well, Harry, are you here to tempt _la gloirieuse France_ into an alliance?" Daphne inquired playfully.

"Perhaps later. I just want to confirm our demilitarization agreement for the Channel." Harry replied with pretend nonchalance.

"Naturally, I will give you at least two turns advance before I drive my fleets up the Thames."

"Yes, and while you're doing that, Draco will already be sacking Paris. That's what I wanted to warn you about. He was just trying to get me to ally with him, get rid of you two and finish the game by ourselves. That, for one, would be boring. You see, I've known Draco all my life. He's predictable and impatient. I reckon he will try to storm through you and won't stop until he reached Portugal. With you out of the way, neither Theo nor I could stop him, alone or together." Daphne was now looking at him intently.

"How do I know you're not up to something with him?" she finally asked. Harry laughed.

"You've seen how much I enjoy winding him up. Besides, he knows me well also, so if it comes down to the two of us, we'll be at it for hours. Oh, and here's a little gift for you: better reinforce the Vienna garrison, Draco will be moving in Galicia next turn," Harry said and left in the direction of the table to prepare his orders for the turn. Soon the rest had taken their positions as well, and Twinky began reading out the orders for the turn. Sure enough, Draco moved into Galicia. Everything else, however, was quite unexpected. The Russian fleet in the Baltic was met and sunk by two British ones, from Kiel and Copenhagen. The British army in Norway moved into Sweden, and the one in Berlin invaded Livonia.

"Why, Harry, I'm heartbroken!" Draco exclaimed in mock disappointment. Theo had apparently gambled on Harry playing aggressively, as he had launched a pincer attack against Russian-held Romania from Bulgaria and against Sevastopol from Armenia. He was successful in the former but overwhelmed by two fleets and an army at the latter, prompting a retreat. Daphne had shifted her forces eastwards toward Vienna, nevertheless keeping two fleets in Brittany and Belgium in case Harry got too ambitious, and had also seized Naples from Theo.

Things were looking disastrous for Draco, but the following turn brought a new set of plots and betrayals. Instead of marching on to Moscow, Daphne turned her forces against Harry and overran the Ruhr, Saxony and Berlin. Harry was thankful he had moved back some forces to the west and could therefore counterattack from Kiel and the Netherlands next turn; his Baltic fleets remained unimpeded and took St. Petersburg, but he realized he would not hold it beyond the following turn lest he become dangerously stretched in the north. Theo had again gambled on an attack against Draco, so when that failed to materialize his own offensive failed and Draco's counteroffensive managed to push him out of Armenia and the Trebizond.

The next two hours saw a series of similar reversals and stabs-in-the-back. The border territories between the four powers had changed hands too many times to count. When Lucius came in two hours later, all of them were engrossed in heated negotiation and their positions were remarkably similar to those at the start. "Ah, a stalemate!" he declared, "Let's call it a draw, shall we." He waved his wand and the figures went back to their boxes and the map folded by itself as soon as it had been vacated. He then turned to his students again and asked, "How did you like your first taste of _Realpolitik_?"

"It was fun, father," Draco replied. The others responded similarly.

"Indeed, but remember you are supposed to learn from this. I had a few eavesdropping charms in place and took notes on your discussions and moves, so we will analyze them next time. However, there is one thing in particular that I wanted to point out tonight, and let me say I was quite pleased you managed to figure it out by yourselves." The four suddenly sported proud grins. Lucius continued, "I am talking about the concept of the Balance of Power. There were several times where one of you was close to annihilation, but the final blow would have made the country that delivered it more powerful than the other two. That is why in each case you prevented that with a betrayal and changed your alliances. You realized that your continued survival was contingent on whether the other powers would remain evenly matched. It took muggles several centuries to come to the same conclusion, and even then it was only due to particularly insightful ones such as Machiavelli, Metternich and Bismarck, whose works we will all eventually study. Now then, off you go! It's dinner time!" Lucius concluded, dismissing his class.

* * *

Unlike the previous days, Thursday's morning class, Herbology, took place in the spacious gardens of the manor. Daphne instantly recognized their tutor, a Mr. Owens who was a Senior Botanical Surveyor for her father's company. Lord Greengrass's massive conglomerate was the prime importer into Britain of all kinds of magical supplies, from magical plants and creatures and simple potions ingredients to black market artifacts and poached dragon parts, the latter of course being known only to a select few customers who could afford them. Mr. Owens explained that he would usually lead expeditions to remote places such as the Congo or the Amazon in search of rare magical plants. He then went on to lecture about several of the more common plants that were available in the gardens. He spoke with passion about his field and actually managed to make it sound interesting, even to the initially skeptical Draco. After an hour and a half, he got them to put on their gloves and practice the proper way to harvest the plants so that they could be used as potions ingredients. When they were done with the exercise, he assigned them some reading from their books and was off. The weather had become very hot by now, so the four students hurried back to the manor, where and elf awaited them with a tray full of refreshments.

The rest of the afternoon was spent reading their previous assignments. At six o'clock, Lucius again welcomed them to his study. "For your first lesson in finance and political economy, I thought something practical might again be useful. It did work out last night, after all," he said with a smile. Everyone was now in anticipation, knowing that they would not be disappointed. Lucius motioned them to their usual room, which looked unchanged from the previous night save for the fact that a large pile of books and newspapers now occupied the table. When they had all gathered around the table, he continued, "Here you have several primers on stock market investments, as well as newspapers and magazines, both British and foreign, for the past two weeks. There are also market reports and analyses by experts. If there is any other book or periodical you would like, feel free to ask. You will each receive a thousand galleons." As soon as he said that, four elves appeared carrying sizeable bags of gold. The students stared in amazement at the massive amount of money before them. "Feel free to invest them in any way you like. Once you've made your decision, tell your treasurer elf and he will go and invest then at the Magical Stock Exchange in my name, as you are still too young. You can keep any profits you make until next Thursday. But," he added with a tone of warning, "any loss will be deducted from your allowance over a period of time. You have the next two hours to inform yourselves and make your decision. Best of luck." With that, he left them to their task.

Harry took one of the primers and several newspapers and secluded himself in one of the couches. He quickly went through the short book in order to get the basics down; to his luck most things were quite intuitive (the magical world, thankfully, knew not the abomination of derivatives). He then started going through the papers, looking for hints on which companies were likely to be successful in the coming week. The answer hit him suddenly when he was looking at an unrelated article on the _Prophet's_ sports page. He checked the calendar to make sure he had the dates right, and a plan began forming in his mind. Ten minutes later, he went to his elf, whispered some instructions in its ear and, to the shock of his fellow students, confidently walked out of the room. "Done already?" Lucius asked, surprised. Harry nodded and grinned. "Well then you can get started on the book I had prepared for next time." He read for the remainder of the lesson. At eight, the other three also came out of the room, having made their investments, and Lucius dismissed the class.

Friday's class was the last of the week, History of Magic. They were back in the grand dining room, where they were met by their tutor, a Junior Curator from the Museum of Magical History named Harris Watson. He first outlined what they were to cover in the following weeks, and then began his lecture on the wizards of Mesopotamia and Ancient Egypt. He had a very engaging style, pausing often to ask questions to make sure his student were following him. He also showed them several artifacts that he had brought from the museum, explaining their significance. At the end of the lesson, he became the first of their tutors to give them a written assignment for homework.

As there were no more lessons that day, Daphne left as she had promised to spend the afternoon with her younger sister, Astoria. The three boys spent most of the afternoon playing Quidditch outside before Theo also had to leave after tea time. Following a light dinner, Harry and Draco played several games of wizard chess before deciding to turn in early. As he lay in bed that night, Harry looked back on the first week of his magical education with contentment. He realized that it would only get better from there and could hardly wait for Monday.

* * *

**Note:** My sincerest apologies for the delay. I hope that you enjoy the chapter regardless and look forward to your questions and comments.


	7. Chapter VI: The Potions Master

**Chapter VI: The Potions Master**

The novelty and excitement of the lessons wore off after the first week, and Harry and his friends had settled into a comfortable routine. The only real surprise during the second week was in their finances class on Thursday evening. After his usual greeting, Lucius had asked, "Well, how did you do?" A silence descended during which Daphne, Draco and Theo looked intently at the floor. Eventually Daphne spoke up hesitantly.

"I lost 127 galleons, Mr. Malfoy. I'm sorry," she said.

"Two hundred eighty-three here," Theo added quietly.

"F-four hundred and nineteen," Draco said in a half-whisper.

"Ah, well, that's unfortunate," Lucius commented, "How about you, Harry?"

"Eight hundred sixty-four galleons," Harry said in a low voice. He then grinned and added, "Profit, that is." Everyone else looked at him dumbfounded.

"How?" Draco asked, his voice rising, "How's that even possible?"

"Well," Harry replied, still smiling, "remember the Cleensweep prototype I got for my birthday? It went on sale this Monday."

"So?" Theo continued the questioning, "It's only available to professional teams. It's not on the market yet. Cleensweep couldn't have made such a profit."

"I didn't invest in Cleensweep," Harry explained, "I shorted Nimbus. I borrowed a lot of shares on Thursday and sold them on Friday just before the exchange closed. Come Monday, their contract with the Montrose Magpies expired and they were replaced by Cleensweep as official suppliers, so their stocks plummeted. I then bought back the shares and returned them, making plenty of profit along the way."

"Very good foresight, Harry, well done indeed," Lucius said, "As for you three, as this was your first time, consider your debts forgiven. I just wanted you to take this seriously and apply yourselves. But be warned, when we try this again in a few months, it will be for real. Now, on to today's lesson."

* * *

After that little episode things returned to normal. As the months passed, the four students steadily progressed through the material. In Transfiguration, they finished cutlery and other similar small objects, and by October their tutor had them transforming living things into inanimate objects and vice versa. In Charms, they had finished the basic array of first-year spells by late November, so Mr. Johnson started explaining how to break down charms to their constituent elements. The levitation charm, he explained as an example, consisted of three basic effects: one counteracting gravity, another providing the force that propelled the object around, and the third linking the object to the caster's wand so that it could be controlled. It was by combining such basic effects that almost any spell could be created. At first, the students were excited by the prospect of getting to make their own spells, but their tutor had disappointing news. The differential equations and statistical analysis that were needed to successfully do this required at least sixth-year arithmancy. After some very insistent requests, he eventually promised to start them on arithmancy if they managed to get through the second-year curriculum by next winter.

In their Combat Magic lessons, Moody had covered the few spells of the first year curriculum that he deemed marginally useful in two weeks. They had then moved on to the defense books for second, third and eventually even fourth year. However, their primary textbook was still the one Moody had gotten them. It was the one he used for auror recruits in the first year of training. The students covered the theory mostly on their own, as Moody has little affinity for lecturing or assigning and marking essays. Instead, he would make them practice and spar each lesson until they were nearly exhausted, physically and magically. He explained that the purpose was to build up their stamina and magical reserves. He would also occasionally ambush them to drive home the point about 'constant vigilance'; at one time things had gotten so bad that all four of them had taken to sleeping with their wands under their pillows. The practice ended when Moody told them the story of a similarly paranoid auror trainee with the same habit who had blown his brains out when his wand had malfunctioned during a night-time drill.

Things were going well in the other two curriculum subjects as well. When the weather became too cold, their Herbology tutor had a greenhouse set up. Having soon covered the first-year plants, Mr. Owens began introducing more dangerous and exotic specimens. They earned how to plant and harvest mandrakes, venomous tentaculae and devil snares. Not all the plants were that dangerous, and some, such as the Japanese golden chrysanthemums, whose petals actually became solid gold during the summer solstice, were exquisitely beautiful. In history, they had covered the ancient magical civilizations and moved on to wizards' role in the rise and fall of Rome. In addition to teaching the material, their tutor would also instruct them in essay writing techniques; he taught them how to construct balanced arguments, as well as to critically examine sources and historiographical interpretations, a skill which was of great use in their assignments on other subjects.

Harry and his friends made great progress in their non-curricular studies as well. It took several weeks of confidence and elocution exercises, but eventually all four were able to deliver an entire oration before the crowd simulacrum without a single display of disapproval. By January, they had the crowd clapping politely; a month later it was cheering and by May it would be driven to absolute ecstasy. Lucius had also taught them all the different styles of rhetoric, with many examples from the magical and muggle worlds; they studied the works of almost every major political figure, from Salazar Slytherin to Gellert Grindelwald, from Cicero to Adolf Hitler. Eventually all four had developed their own distinct style. Harry would speak with controlled intensity and inner fire; he had evidently inherited his father's charisma and could imbue each word with such passion that many would follow him willingly. In contrast, Draco had emulated the silky, manipulative rhetoric that his father would often use in the Wizengamot; he would try to appeal to his audience's self-interest and make them forget about his own designs and machinations. Daphne used a similarly manipulating approach, but she would take advantage of her personal charms to get the crowd to sympathize with her. Theo had the least verbose style of them. His speeches would be short, sharp and often sarcastic or derisory, but they were effective nonetheless. In early June, just two days before Draco's birthday, Lucius had declared that they were now competent orators and gave them one final task – to improvise a speech on a topic of their choosing. Harry had decided to condemn all the flaws, crimes and abuses, past and present, of Albus Dumbledore. He spoke animatedly for almost an hour, demonstrating a perfect mastery of the Rhetoric of Hate. By the time he was done, the crowd had taken up pitchforks and torches and was screaming for Dumbledore's head on a pike.

They had been similarly successful in Lucius's other disciplines. The four students drudged their way through volumes of magical law until they had acquired enough of a grounding to do some simulations of court cases. Lucius had set up the special room to simulate one of the courtrooms at the ministry, and they had gone through several landmark cases. In the spring, Lucius had decided they were ready to start French magical law, which proved to be a whole other abomination. Nevertheless, they eventually got around that as well. In their study of Diplomacy, Lucius first had them get a firm grasp of geography and geopolitics; they learned all the major sources of magical raw materials and creatures and the implications of that on international relations. Some countries were specialized in a few products, for instance Switzerland and its intricate enchanted mechanical devices, whereas others, such as the vast Russian realm could supply anything from rare wand woods to exquisite dragon-hide. They learned as well about Britain's trading partners and the major trade routes, nautical and aerial. After thoroughly covering geography, they moved on to the works of renown statesmen and their theories on international relations; they read and discussed the works of both magical leaders such as Pierre Bonaccord, the founder of the International Confederation of Wizards, and the legendary Septimus Malfoy, as well as their muggle contemporaries Talleyrand and Clemens von Metternich. When Lucius had them play another game of _Realpolitik_ in their last lesson before Christmas, they had applied what they had learned with amazing efficiency. However, it was Harry who yet again demonstrated the limitations of the game as a simulation of actual politics; he called in a favor that Daphne owed him after losing a bet the previous week for an alliance, and together they proceeded to utterly demolish Draco and Theo's armies before coming to a stalemate. In Economics and Finance, they finished stock markets in a few weeks and went on to more general economic theory: supply and demand, the laws of markets, equilibria and disequilibria, taxation, and government intervention. Lucius used mainly texts from magical authors and goblins, occasionally supplementing them with muggle ones, but, as he had explained in the beginning, most of the latter were barely applicable to the magical world due to the muggles' insane monetary systems. In the spring they had moved on to international economics, covering trade, excise duties, tariffs, comparative advantage, and exchange rates. The latter were thankfully very simple in the magical world, as it was a question of the mass of the respective coins of the same metal; anyone with a properly calibrated set of scales could freely convert between British galleons, German thalers, American eagles or Japanese kaichin. More unusual currencies, such as the jade coins sometimes used in China, had their exchange rates set by international agreements.

* * *

Draco's birthday, June 5, marked the end of the lessons. A lavish party was held at the manor, at which Harry and Draco made the acquaintance of several others of their peers that would be joining them at Hogwarts in a year's time. It was evident that Lucius was expanding the list of invitees gradually each year. At the end of the evening's festivities, he called Harry, Draco, Theo and Daphne to his office and informed them that from the following week, all their lessons were on hold. The suddenly jubilant expressions on their faces darkened, however, when they learned of the reason. For the following three months, they would be intensely studying potions. After a moment, Draco asked, "But father, who will teach us–"

He was cut off when the doors suddenly opened and a tall man with shoulder-length jet black hair and onyx eyes entered. He was dressed entirely in black robes and his over-cloak billowed behind him as he walked. "That would be I," he said in a measured voice.

"Professor Snape!" Draco exclaimed gleefully, immediately recognizing his godfather, "Thank you for the gift." He was referring to the hand-crafted silver cauldron that he had received earlier.

"You are welcome, Draco," Snape said, "Lucius, I was looking for you but it seems I have come a very fortunate moment. I take it those are the other two students?"

"Yes, Severus. Allow me to introduce Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass," Lucius replied. Snape paused and turned so that he was facing all four of his future students.

"Mr. Nott, Miss Greengrass, in case you did not already know, I am Severus Snape and I teach potions at Hogwarts. I am also the Head of Slytherin, which, with luck, will be your house next year. Though for some of you" – he looked at Harry – "it's not even a question of luck. I have agreed to take over this aspect of your education during the summer because I have been assured that you show the necessary potential and will not make me regret my career choice every lesson, unlike the usual imbeciles that I am forced to endure. Pray that this assessment is correct." He paused and produced four pieces of parchment which he handed the students. "Our lessons begin in two weeks, when school finishes. This is a list of the equipment you must acquire. You will notice that it is much more exhaustive than the official Hogwarts supply list. You will also read and learn the entire first year book over the following two weeks. A laboratory will be set up for you in the dungeons of this manor and ingredients will be provided. Lessons will start at nine a.m. precisely. I will not tolerate tardiness or unpreparedness. Lessons will be on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays."

"Does that mean we have the rest of the week free?" Draco asked with a hopeful expression.

"Manners, Draco!" Lucius scolded him, "Forgive me, Severus, I was just about to tell them." He then addressed all four, "On Tuesdays and Thursdays you will begin your study of occlumency. It is customary for heirs of prominent families to begin it around your age, so that any family secrets can be kept safe when they go to school. That goes especially for you, Harry. Added to that, Dumbledore is one of the world's most accomplished legilimens and I certainly don't trust him to keep his mind probes to himself." He paused, before concluding, "But enough of that now. Professor Snape and I have important matters to discuss. Please leave us." He had a tone of finality, which the students sensed, so they left, eager and slightly apprehensive of the trials which awaited them over the summer.

The next Monday, the four students walked down to the dungeons of the manor to find them completely transformed. Most of the dark, cold rooms were usually used as storage for all types of miscellany, but now an entire potions laboratory had been set up in the largest of them. There were several workbenches covered with cauldrons, phials, distilling equipment, and a veritable arsenal of smaller tools – mortars, knives, scalpels, thermometers and several scales. The walls of the room featured several shelves completely covered in jars, vials and boxes containing all manner of animal parts, plants, liquids and powders. A blackboard took up most of the far end, where Snape was already waiting for his class.

"Good morning, Professor Snape," the students said almost in unison.

"Take your seats," he said, indicating the workspaces. "And when you do that, clear away that equipment."

"Excuse me, Professor," Draco asked, rather confused, "Aren't we going to practice potion making?"

"In due time, Mr. Malfoy. But before you even touch a cauldron, you must learn how to handle the equipment, and even more importantly, how to _properly_ prepare the ingredients."

"With respect, Professor, can't we learn that as we go along–"

Snape put his hand up, silencing him. He then took his wand out and summoned a large jar containing a number of plum-sized glandular organs in a pungent, clear liquid. He took one out and held it up. "Can anyone tell me what this is?" he asked. Harry raised his hand. "Mr. Potter?"

"It's a venom gland from a snake, sir. A Malayan adder, to be specific."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter," Snape said, turning to the class, "And its market value is around twelve knuts apiece. Whereas a basilisk gland can go for thousands of galleons. And yet the extraction method is the same for both. Learning how to do it properly now will save you much frustration and money later, when you are working with more exotic ingredients for more advanced potions." He then took a scalpel and proceeded to demonstrate the correct method. "It is similar to preparing a prawn for cooking, if you've ever done it," he explained, "First remove the large vein on the upper side. Then make an incision of roughly half an inch on the upper front side. Use a pair of tweezers to open it and carefully extract the venom with a pipette. The venom is stored in two ventricles; you can do them in any order." He carried out the procedures as he talked, and by the end he held a pipette filled with an amber translucent liquid which he deposited into a small test tube. "Your turn," he said, handing out four fresh glands.

The rest of the day was spent practicing how to prepare many of the ingredients that they would encounter during their first three years in Hogwarts. The students did well with the plants, on account of their practice in herbology lessons, but found the animal parts more challenging. Snape would always push them, and he did not accept anything less than perfection. Whenever anyone of them made a mistake, he would make a derisive yet well-earned comment. "No, Miss Greengrass, I said _sal ammoniac_, not antimony. And I said crush it to a powder first. If you put those crystals in a potion you will kill yourself." "Mr. Nott, that was pathetic. Have you ever shredded anything in your life before? And why didn't you wait until the salamander skin was fully desiccated?" "Mr. Malfoy, why is that thermometer upside down? And for the love of Merlin, why haven't you filled the condenser with water? Must I teach you rudimentary physics?" "Mr. Potter, I clearly said you must filter the solution before you distill it. What you now have is highly toxic, which would be great for a poison but hardly so for a calming draught. And what could have possibly compelled you to add sulfuric acid?"

Professor Snape was certainly a very strict and demanding teacher. In fact, out of all the other tutors, only Moody came close to this level of expectations or strictness. Yet none of his students could really complain: whatever criticisms they received were always justified, regardless of the harshness thereof; and the positive results were immediately apparent, especially when by the end of June, all four of them had bashed through the pathetic first year curriculum. Snape had actually explained his pedagogical philosophy at the end of the first lesson. Facing his students, who had by the end of the day sliced, diced, dissected, shredded, extracted, liquefied or grinded a myriad of animal parts, he said, "That is sufficient for today, I believe." Beckoning them closer, he continued in his deep monotone, "When I look at all of you, I see potential. Immense potential. In fact, the kind that comes perhaps once per generation. As an educator" – here his voice became more animated – "there is nothing that I detest more than for such potential to be wasted by laziness or coddling. A sentiment which, alas, the imbeciles that set the Hogwarts curriculum do not share. Thankfully, I have managed to get my hands on you beforehand and will try to rectify that situation. I fully expect you to master the curricula for the initial years to perfection. Do not be concerned about having too much free time in your future at school. I will certainly see to that you be kept occupied with tasks more befitting of your level. You may find several of your teachers making similar arrangements. But enough of that."

"Your assignment for Wednesday," Snape continued, "is to select six of the ingredients that you have been working with today and write eight inches of parchment on _all_ of their properties, including their use in as many potions as you can find. Now, clean up your workstations and you may go." The students quickly set about the task. Snape watched them as they worked. "Also don't forget to read up for your occlumency lesson tomorrow." He added with a barely noticeable smirk, "I _will _know if you are unprepared."

* * *

**Note: My sincerest apologies for the unexpected radio silence. The chapter is finally here, hopefully better late than never. To those who may believe I have abandoned my endeavor, let me reassure you that this is not the case. I have simply had too many distractions between my graduation a month ago and now to finally sit down and get on with it. I shall be traveling rather extensively over the next two weeks or so, and as such would probably be unable to supply further updates. Hopefully, things can get back to normal after that. Again, apologies for the delays.**

**In fact, as a treat to those of you more interested, I will bend my initial rule and slightly indulge you. The next chapter will have Harry's eleventh birthday and, hopefully, everything up to and including the events of the Hogwarts Express. Also, more of the familiar characters will start making their appearance.**


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